


A Calm Amidst a Storm

by TedizStalker



Category: Bx: Execute (OFF Fangame), OFF (Game)
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, Par is older than you think he is despite being shorter than Reinzi, Reunion between War and Peace, Solitude in the File Graveyard, light fluff, or something like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23612278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TedizStalker/pseuds/TedizStalker
Summary: It has been a year since Par has been exiled from his home, over a condition he had no control over.Reinzi, the Guard of Bismark, finds himself on the wayside of the file graveyard over a year since then.What happens when the two find each other again?
Relationships: Par/Reinzi
Kudos: 7





	A Calm Amidst a Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This will be the first fiction I post here, testing the waters while I'm on a massive writing spree.
> 
> There's only one swear word to worry about near the start. Otherwise it would have been General. Enjoy!

A quiet sigh of relief escaped, one that Par realized he had been holding.

A year of peace and solitude in the File Graveyard, alone in his temple, and it was today that a trio of misfits paid a visit. The undead Purifier was rather intimidating on first impressions, and even mistook the sheet wearing inhabitant as a Spectre initially. Thankfully, the sick looking one with the red goggles, likely Pestilence, talked him out of the idea of throwing punches.

The one in the blue glasses, Health, posed a bit of a fire hazard. But as the Purifier confirmed during their short stay, he was holding onto the pyromaniac’s lighter for reasons that involve setting himself on fire, but only because it sped up the healing progress on the hyperactive inhabitant. How that made any sense, he wouldn’t know.

Ghost, Huaso, and Florence. Those were their names, Par recalls after the three finally calm down enough to behave and be sensible in his Temple.

Unfortunately, that feeling of relief faded away, soon replaced with subtle anxiety. One of them mentioned another inhabitant roaming the Graveyard. And by description; he was well dressed, bald, and had red shades, as bright as the intense fires at sundown.  
It couldn’t have been. Not after so long… could it?

The moment that news made Par feel unsettled, Ghost was onto him as soon as he took notice. He kept pushing for the truth, called him out on his lies, backed him into a corner metaphorically speaking, but Par would not budge. Again Huaso had to step in and tell him to, as Ghost would put it, ‘Fucking Stop.’

Another sigh escaped him, a frown worrying his features, obscured by the sheet. He wasn’t taking it off anytime now, thanks to news of another inhabitant that could potentially stop by.

~~

There was hardly any food or water to come across. But then again, Reinzi was well packed and ready for a situation like this. His file no longer had the foundation to avoid falling into the Graveyard. He was used to solitude, or being ostracized by the inhabitants back home, a home that no longer exists. Home… Reinzi allowed his mind to wander as his feet took him wayward into the barren unknown.  
  
\--

#73694 might have done a bang up job keeping outsiders out, especially when they didn’t have a consensus to the living quarters, but he was feared all the same. He was unintentionally intimidating. His presence caused unrest among the inhabitants, and staying around him too long usually led to two inhabitants picking fights with one another. He would step in, break it up, and shoo them away, but the peace wouldn’t last.

The alternative may as well be the greater of the two worst case scenarios.  
There was once an inhabitant that became enlightened, after falling into the plastic sea. #16118 was short for a resident, and he had a shy personality. That much #73694 remembers. What happened after the short guy got back out of the plastic wasn’t entirely his fault.

He didn’t know #16118 personally, but he did offer his lunch one time. More notably, he gave advice to this inhabitant’s late wife about asking him out on a date, and being patient with his disposition. He made sure to greet him each time he left and returned, but the shorter would walk off in a hurry.

Surely, #16118 wasn’t affected in the same way as the others were after #73694 found an object whose origins came from beyond the files. The other inhabitants did, as they actively avoided him unless it was necessary to pass through the gate to the living quarters.

And yet; after the short one fell into the plastic, having done so while walking off a ledge because his nose was buried in a book, fences were erected to keep that from happening again. It was what happened _afterwards_ that the guard took notice of the inhabitants’ behavior.  
They began to crowd around #16118, almost to an uncomfortable degree. Bismark was the safest of all the zones, yet the Elsen there always craved more. They wanted to _feel_ safe, forever and always. But it became like an addiction to hang around the shorter inhabitant.

All good things could not last forever. Like a mixture in a bottle with a lid screwed on tight, shaken to a fever pitch, the first one to burn out from overexposure was the wife of #16118. He was forever marked by her claws before he was forced to put an end to her life.  
And like a chain reaction, the residence within Bismark followed suit.

#73694 didn’t fare any better, as he was the last one to burn, watching the madness unfold before his eyes, before his hair caught on fire, setting a nearby building ablaze. The panic was short-lived; as lost as this Zone 2 was to him right now, he still had a job to do.

He had to suppress the Burnt.

In the end, when he found the cause of this madness, while understandably livid, he banished #16118 without waiting for an explanation.  
Zone 2 will rebuild, this file wasn’t lost at the time of this happenstance, and Japhet was absent on that day. More inhabitants were sent in to replace the numbers lost, but Bismark was never the same.  
  
~~

Reinzi shook his head. Now was not the time to be walking around in the Graveyard with less than fond memories.  
He hadn’t realized that as he was walking around aimlessly with his head in the clouds that his foot bumped against the first step leading up to a building. It looked like a temple. Or maybe it was furnished in a way to look like one. A faint smell of books hung in the air. There was a pedalo in the pool of plastic nearby, but there was no room for it to be used properly.

Somehow, this reminds him of #16118. Could this be where he’s been this entire time, hiding away since his banishment?  
Upon closer inspection to the sign at the top of the flight of steps, he was able to confirm that, yes, this was indeed #16118’s home. As well as additional text of welcome.

Out of the corner of Reinzi’s eyes, obscured by the solid red sunglasses, he swore he could have seen something standing by the door. An inhabitant with a sheet over his body, because Spectres do not have legs to stand on. Only ghouls do, as well as inhabitants.

“Are you lost, child?” the sheet-obscured inhabitant asks, his voice quiet but calm.

There was no mistaking that calming aura once they locked eyes, glasses or sheets be damned. Reinzi composed himself. “I believe I am, after my file fell wayside to the graveyard.” he responds.

The file fell wayside… his old home, lost and destroyed. Purified. So, this gentleman with a frenzied aura is the very same one that kicked him out?  
Par swallows a lump in his throat. “Come on in, then…” he says, keeping a calm tone that nearly faltered. As he turns around and heads back inside, he could hear the other climb the steps behind him.  
  
~~

“Should I know you?”  
It was a question that was asked out of the blue during one dinner time. Reinzi had been here for four days now. Despite his insistence that he wasn’t here to take advantage of the harbringer’s peaceful aura, as proven by his active participation to help around the temple, and seemingly unaffected by said aura as he never dropped his guard, an extended stay over one day was becoming four too many for Par. Not for one second did Par remove the sheet obscuring him from the other’s view.

“I don’t know, should you?” Par replies, looking at him dead in the eyes. Those sunglasses might conceal them enough to stop the madness, but there was no mistaking the transformation it inflicted on the ex-guard of Bismark. They were stunning, so to say. If only Reinzi would remove them. But he had his reservations as to why he refused to take them off. And if he did, he would have his eyes closed.  
Besides, it’s not like Par had his own reasons as to why the sheet was staying over his head.

At least Peace was nice enough to cook some of the meat that Reiniz brought along, as too much vegetables would disagree with his stomach. But if he wants to play that game, Reinzi can wait. He can call it a stakeout and wait for the sheet to fall the long way around.

“Who are you, exactly?”

“Did you not read the sign out the front? I’m #16118, and this is my temple, my home.”

“Funny you should say that. Back home, there was an inhabitant who’s number was 16118. He had a condition that was beyond his control. Looking back at it, I overreacted, and…”

“You had every right to, child. You had just burnt out at the time.”

“...How do you know that?”

A pause hung heavy in the air.  
There was no fooling that. Par slipped up. Reinzi never said anything about _how_ he became the Harbringer of War, or when he became a Calvary Burnt himself, not once since he started staying here. This was not a coincidence that the two came from the exact same file.

“Answer me, Peace. How do you know that?” Reinzi repeated himself, though in a softer, almost curious tone, rather than the calm, stern attitude that he usually held himself to.

“I was there. I was the reason why you almost lost Bismark…”

Another pause. Par looked down, away. He couldn’t handle this mess of emotions. Not now. Not like this. “You had every right to be angry with me. You had a reason to banish me from Bismark, and ultimately, from the File.”

“Peace, look at me.”

With slight hesitation, Par brought his eyes back to the other. And was almost taken aback; Reinzi had lifted his shades, and rested them on his forehead. He was right to believe that something remarkable was hiding behind a sheen of red. “Look me dead in the eye and tell me; do I look like I bear any ill will towards you now?”

“W-Well, no…”

“I forgive you. I have been, once I came to terms that it was my fault that you weren’t around anymore.”

“B-But if you hadn’t gotten rid of me, it would have only h-happened again.”

“Our file becoming lost was inevitable. All I did was slow it down, and leave a hole I never knew was there until you were truly missed.”

“Reinzi, don’t kid yourself.”

Another pause. Suddenly, their appetite was absent. Yet Par could not take his eyes off the other, nor did Reinzi lower the shades.  
“You haven’t gone insane.” the ex-guard laments, “You’ve been looking at me in the eye for a full minute now, and you haven’t lost your cool.”

“I find your eyes to be stunning…”

“I can’t take that seriously if you’re going to pretend being a spectre for another minute longer. May I at least see who is able to give me such a compliment without losing their mind?”

That’s fair. Par grip the end of the sheet with his claws and, slowly, lifts it over his head, letting it flop on the back rest of his chair.  
Now it was Reinzi’s turn to be amazed. He had his suspicions, but he respected the other’s privacy to keep the sheet on. Hiding under it was someone he knew he had missed.

It is Par, it really is him. He was the same short inhabitant he had banished, identified by the healed over wound on half of Par’s face. It had hardened into the same black substance a Critical Burnt would have. Par’s hair was long, but it was nicely packed away in his blue beanie hat. Honestly, Reinzi never thought that the other had grown hardy over the entire year since he left. It took every iron will to remain seated and not get up to hug the shorter one. It wouldn’t be professional now, would it?

“...What? Is there something on my face?”

Reinzi stuttered, finding his voice as the other questioned him. “No. Not at all…” he cleared his throat, glancing away, “Just… I had my suspicion. I didn’t think I would have hit the nail on the head… Par.”  
Well, yes, there is something on Par’s face, but if the wound was part of the reason why he was hiding before it would be rude to point it out right now.

“Besides having a hunch, I really don’t have anywhere else to stay. Is it alright if I can stay with you, even if I find my footing and get a new job?”

“You said you forgive me. Do you mean it?”

“You were looking me in the eye when I said I did. Of course I mean it.”

“Then I forgive you for kicking me out.” Par says, finally cracking a smile, “You may stay.”

“No conditions barred?”

“Well… except one.”

Reinzi smiles back, with a slight eyeroll. “What?”

“I said that your eyes are stunning. Will you wear your sunglasses less often when it’s just the two of us?”

“Of course. It’s your house. If you want the shades off, I’ll gladly take them off, provided there’s no one else around to worry about.”

“Don’t worry.” Par reassures, getting back to eating again, “It’s the graveyard after all. Not a lot pass by through here.”

The feeling of tension had left them just as quickly as it came and settled over them over those past four days. But in spite of it all, a persistent calm was present the entire time. Past uncontrolled sins forgiven, but not forgotten, and allowing bygones be bygones.  
For now, Reinzi was happy to have found Par again. And Par was relieved that he was forgiven. The two could truly enjoy each other’s company until the next living being happens to travel through.


End file.
